Stretching the Comfort Zone

Sometimes I think about my comfort zone and what that means. For most of us, there are things we don’t much care for but continue with anyway. So in a weird way, we are in our comfort zone of discomfort. I do believe that much growth can come from stretching one’s comfort zone in the right areas. My right areas aren’t your right areas, and vice versa. So I ask myself, which zones should I stretch? Better yet, I want to stop “shoulding” myself about how I should improve. Which areas of my life do I really want to stretch, and which goals are a fit for me?

Somehow I’ve managed to live in Colorado for 43 years, and I’ve gone downhill skiing only once. I backpacked once. These events were in my early 30’s. No rock climbing, no kayaking, no rafting. And yet, somehow I have been allowed to continue to live here in our Mecca of fitness. Having grown up in New York City and having no athletic ability, I never actually heard the phrase “getting in shape” until I saw a Boulder doctor for a check-up at age 31. He said I was fine, but might want to consider the “in shape” possibility. Horrified, I thought he was politely telling me I was fat. I needed a translation of what he meant from a supportive Boulder native. Stretching my comfort zone in the direction of better health and fitness was okay with me once I understood his recommendation, so I then accrued enough years of running/jogging to join the happy group of older people who have had some degree of knee damage. I still stay in shape, but less percussively. I really like hiking, and dancing. Now this is a secret: I don’t do Pilates. I’ve tried it a few times, and somehow didn’t get converted. And I eat gluten. And years ago, I wrote a song called “Butter and Sugar”: a song of worshipful appreciation of desserts. I have never recanted.

Back to the topic of stretching the comfort zone, and on to the subject of music. For me, music and psychotherapy are hand-in-glove. I have had a long career as a psychotherapist in private practice. And singing has always been in the background. If something intense is said, it’s often more intense for me if it also has a melody. Lately I’ve been thinking about the remarkable capacity of human beings to survive trauma and find a way to function anyway. Some effective survival mechanisms are denial and disassociation. I have great respect for these as life-saving coping methods in many situations. They help people to go ahead and create a future. Yes, there is a big price to pay from using these defenses, but it’s not really a conscious choice. It’s about surviving with sanity.

I stretched my comfort zone by creating a song called, “Don’t Want My Story.” The topic is how one can try to erase the unbearable, even when it’s the truth and doesn’t actually go away.

Don’t Want My Story